


Sugar, We're Goin' Down Swinging

by TheFriendlyGhost



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Awesome Stiles, BAD Derek, BAMF Stiles, Break Up, Breakup, Completed, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Edited, Fluff, Happy Ending, Harry Potter References, Humor, Hurt Stiles, I Don't Even Know, Letter, M/M, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Stiles is Derek's Favorite, Swearing, pop culture references, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 23:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3506942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFriendlyGhost/pseuds/TheFriendlyGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale is an idiot for breaking up with Stiles.<br/>And the geeky fanboy is more than a little pissed.<br/>So he writes a totally non-passive aggressive letter to the werewolf explaining how much of an utter butthole he is.<br/>Like, seriously.<br/>It's totally non-passive aggressive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar, We're Goin' Down Swinging

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the Fall Out Boy Song - Sugar We're Going Down  
> Here's some explaining for the far too many references that mostly don't even make sense:  
> Frodo = character from Lord of The Rings.  
> Snape = professor from Harry Potter  
> Dumbledore = headmaster from Harry Potter  
> Marvel = comic/film superhero franchise.  
> DC= comic/film superhero franchise.  
> Captain America = ripped superhero. Like seriously. Just pure perfection. ^-^  
> Yoda= Awesome/wise Star Wars character  
> Jedis = badass peacekeepers from Star Wars  
> Veela = very pretty characters from Harry Potter.   
> Thorki = incest pairing Loki and Thor (from the Avengers) 
> 
> I don't mean to hate on Frodo/Snape/Thorki. I have an unhealthy obsession with all of these. ^-^

Dear Sourwolf,  
I don’t even know why I’m doing this.  
This is ridiculous. And that’s coming from the dude who got possessed by a fox demon this year. Kinda says a lot.  
Letter-writing seems like such a Scott/Allison thing to do for God’s sake. I’m more desperate than goddamn Frodo. And probably more of an idiot for doing this, too.  
But... I don’t know. I miss you. A lot. And I know, emotions and mushy stuff aren’t really your Stoic- Talk-About-Feelings-And-I-Will-Rip-Your-Throat-Out-With-My-Teeth kinda thing but goddamit, right now I’m as serious as Snape is a bastard.  
Oh, and Dumbledore dies at the end. You deserved that spoiler for all the shit you put us through this year.

I keep trying to erase the Pop Culture references but I can’t.  
Ms. Morrel said humour is my way of bottling up my emotions. But then again, I am talking to Grumpy McWereWolfson about being emotionless. But I don’t know, I guess I just need someone to talk to. And you seem like the perfect – most goddamn imperfect despite your fucking Captain America body – to talk to. Well, to write letters to and then shred them to.

I really do actually miss you. I miss cuddling on the cold, train station floor with only your arms to warm me up, I miss the way you’d sigh and call me an idiot yet go along with my plan because fuck it, I Stiles Stilinski am always right, I even miss the shoving against the walls part of our relationship. And the sexy kind not the mildly homicidal kind. Okay, maybe a tiny bit the homicidal kind. Sourwolf is cute when he’s angry, okay? But I know, I’ll probably never get that back. Because you Derek Asshole Hale, are as much of an asshole as I am a nerdy, Marvel-obsessed fanboy. And goddamit that's a lot.

I thought we had it good. I mean, I think it was good. I guess we’re not really the Experts of Awesome Relationships considering as I’ve never kissed anyone before you and most of your girlfriends end up trying to turn you into a wolf-skin carpet; yet still.  
You, Derek Asshole Hale, made me feel safe. You made me feel like I was more than just your fairly average, nerdy, Adderal-high 16 year old. You made me feel kinda special. And I think I made you feel okay sometimes too – well as okay as Mr GrumpyEyebrows could ever be. Like, you actually smiled once around me.  
That one time I made you chocolate fudge brownies. Okay, maybe you were smiling at the brownies. But still. You should smile more, Sourwolf. It kinda lights up my depressing, existence. But I guess I can’t really talk about depressing lives if I’m talking to you. Well, writing to you. Ugh. I still can’t get the hang of this.

I don’t forgive you, you know. As Yoda and Zen as I’m being now, I secretly want to karate-chop you and go all Jedi on your furry ass. You’d probably like eat me but it would so be worth it.  
I mean, who breaks up over someone over their own “protection”? That’s as shitty an excuse as half of Scott’s and Allison’s breakup excuses. It’s even shittier than the “My father is going to kill you because you have crazy sideburns and fangs” excuse.  
Come on, man. I thought we were better than that. I hoped we were better than that.

I still see you around, now a days. And it kind of hurts.  
Like it hurts as much as that time we watched The Fault in Our Stars together and I shed a single, manly tear. But at least then I had you to cuddle me and your shoulder to snot and wail on...I doubt you’d let me cuddle you anymore. And that really sucks because you, Derek Asshole Hale are a good cuddler. Remember all those pack-piles?  
I swear to God, Isaac and Scott could be a form of birth control. Every time we even slightly touched my bed, Isaac and Scott magically appeared and started snoring on my Star Wars sheets. It was kind of amazing, though. I mean, I knew you cared about your pack but I never knew you cared about them so much. But watching you nuzzle Isaac's neck and stroke Erica’s hair really made me realize how much of a true Snuggle-Bunny you are.  
And God, I really miss the way you would wrap your arms around me. I miss everything about you for fuck's sake.  
I miss your toothpaste kisses and scent-marking in bed and gripping your hand during cheesy horror movies when the popular girl gets axe-murdered.  
But most of all, I miss your laugh. I mean you laughed quiet a lot. Yeah, mostly it was at my expense but still, your laugh is as beautiful as new-born babies, dude. Except, less bloody and placenta-ish, I guess. 

I saw you the other day, you know. At Wholefoods hiding behind the Female Health section. Who knew Derek Hale hid from 16 year old, 147 pound nerds? I mean, damn. You would of thought I was your feelings the way you were hiding from me.  
Yeah, I’m still angry. You know, Asshole, it wasn’t just me you abandoned. You abandoned Scott and even Jackson. Yeah, I know Jackie Dear is an utter douche-cake but still, he’s a douche-cake that needs your help. They’re kids for God’s sake. You can’t just leave them. It’s horrible. They depend on you, dude. They need you.  
I need you.

You’re an asshole and I hate you but you’re my asshole. (Okay, I meant that figuratively - don't you dare raise your fuzzy eyebrows.) I mean you were a douchebag who wouldn’t let me drive your sweetass car because you didn’t want me to “taint the upholstery” but still, I knew it was because you didn’t want me to hurt myself.  
And that time Scott dared me to eat 10 Reeses’ Cups and you threw them out the window because you knew I was just as allergic to peanuts as I am to giving into a dare.  
I hate how lovely you secretly are.  
It makes getting over you even harder. Getting over your hidden adorableness is even harder than getting over your rock-hard abs and freaking Veela/Greek-God face.

I miss that time you said you loved me underneath the moonlight on that ruined mattress in the old, burnt Hale house. In that house everything smelt of smoke but you smelt like home. Because Derek, this is soppy and stupid and so goddam Nicolas Sparks-esque but you kind of are my home.  
You make me feel safe and okay and kind of worth something. But you’re emotionless and I’m emotional and you’re scarred and I’m broken and you’re like DC and I’m Marvel. But, I can’t help wishing you were here, nuzzling my neck and calling me an idiot.

So, Derek. Here I am. Writing this pathetic “not a letter” letter to you at 3:07 on a Friday night.  
Usually, I would be wrapped in your arms asleep.  
But no, instead I’m shivering in my freezing room and wishing you were here to warm me up.  
Derek Hale, you really fucking suck.  
Because you made me love you and you made me feel as human -as a werewolf can, at least - and then you just fucking left me here.  
Alone and cold and without you.  
And that makes you even more a sourwolf than I thought you were. You’re like reaching Jackson levels of douche-baggery. And that also says a even fucking more.

That’s it. I’m tired of feeling like some lame, lovesick, privileged Nicholas Sparks character.  
I’m going over to the Hale House.  
And I’m going to see you and you’re going to see me – because we’re not freaking Deucalion; we’re not goddamn blind, just stupid – and I’m going to tell you you’re an asshole and you’re going to duck your head and glower at your shoes... yet you’re going to say you’re sorry because you Derek Asshole Hale, deep down in that burnt-up, scarred heart of yours, you love me. And somewhere in my messed-up, stupidly romantic heart of mine I know that I love you too.  
And I know that we can be good together if we fucking try.  
Because we beat the asses of way too fucking many evil assholes and I just know that we can beat the ass of your stupid-ass doubts.  
Because, Asshole, we’re a bit like Thorki. We’re weird and we’re strange and kind of star-crossed... but still, you can’t help but ship us.

Lots of fucking hate,  
(and maybe a tiny bit of love),  
Stiles.


End file.
